I Thought it Would be You
by wonderbells
Summary: 'Okay,' Scott agreed tiredly, 'but have you really thought this through, Stiles? What's it telling you? Is your soulmate outside somewhere? Or are you literally just planning on walking on out there until you find them? I hate to break it to you, but there are a lot of downfalls to that plan.' Soulmate AU, oneshot.


'This is ridiculous. I have to go.'

'Wait, what?" Scott scrambled up from his spot on the floor, clutching the Xbox remote tightly in his hands as Stiles practically leapt from the sofa. "Dude, it's just a game. We can restart it if you're that pissed-'

'What?' Stiles paused momentarily, confused. 'No, Scott, I don't give a shit about the game. I just need to go _now_ , I need to find her- or him I guess, it could be either,' Stiles rambled nervously, gesturing wildly with his arms, 'but I really feel like it's gonna be a she, not that it really matters but- you know what, I just- I just need to _go_ , Scott.'

Stiles knew he was being erratic – what's new? – but all afternoon he'd been feeling this uncomfortable lukewarm-ness in the pit of stomach, getting hotter and colder sporadically until the bluish haze of the TV began to blur in his eyes and the _thump_ _thump_ _thump_ of his heartbeat rang so loudly in his ears that he could no longer hear anything else, not even the roar of the electronic crowd as he and Scott kicked goals and he just had to _go_ and _move_ and get rid of this stifling feeling that had completely overwhelmed him until he felt like he was about to break out from his skin if he didn't _go now_.

Scott stared incredulously as Stiles leaned over, haphazardly shoving his feet into shoes. He made it halfway to the door before Scott jumped the sofa and landed in front of him, obstructing his way.

'Wait a sec, Stiles, okay? What's going on? Are you alright?' Scott's voice was alarmingly high-pitched, something that would worry him except for the fact that in this particular situation he was appropriately alarmed. Stiles' face had taken on a yellow tinge and the look in his eyes was borderline crazy. A faint sheen of sweat glistened on Stiles' forehead and Scott seriously doubted his ability to walk in a straight line at the moment.

Stiles ran his fingers through his hair restlessly, his eyes darting all around the room, itching to go. 'I think it's like, a soulmate thing. I think I need to go and find them. Like, now.'

'A soulmate thing?' Scott questioned, leaning heavily against the door. His shoulders dropped wearily as his eyes scrunched shut. When he opened them up again, Stiles could practically see the sorrow in them.

'Okay,' Scott agreed tiredly, 'but have you really thought this through, Stiles? What's it telling you? Is your soulmate outside somewhere? Or are you literally just planning on walking on out there until you find them? I hate to break it to you, but there are a lot of downfalls to that plan.'

When Scott first met Allison he had known straight away. She walked into the room and sat behind him, and Scott felt like he was burning alive. She smiled at him, though, and the fire eased into a gentle smoulder, warming his body through as he realised that he had been painfully cold until this very moment. It felt like a completely new life from that moment, and Scott couldn't believe how complete he felt with Allison by his side.

When she died Scott's whole world shifted from underneath him. He was intensely cold, and the force of his grief left him shivering for months. It had finally settled, but Scott was terribly aware of the coldness now that he had experienced warmth. He walked around with a hole in his heart, a cold spot where Allison had once kept him warm.

Stiles' eyes softened and focussed on his best friend. He knew this would be a hard moment for Scott.

'Look, obviously I haven't thought this out, but I know I have to go,' he explained quietly. 'I can't handle not knowing anymore, and something's telling me that now is the time.'

'I know,' Scott replied, 'but don't you think it'll happen when it's meant to? You don't see anyone else roaming the streets at-' Scott reached for his phone to check the time, '2:27 in the morning, following a weird-ass temperature in their body to try and find their soulmate.'

'Look. I know that this is really bizarre. And I know that most people, like, bump into their soulmate at the shops, or meet them at school or work or whatever, but what if this _isn't_ normal? What if this is something special? Or what if my soulmate's out there dying in the woods and I need to find them, like right now? I don't know, Scotty, but I know it's now. I _know_ it.'

Scott grinned sadly at his best friend, and clapped him on the shoulder.

'Okay, Stiles. Go get 'em.'

Stiles grinned back at his best mate, and pulled open the door, pausing on his way out.

'For the record, I was kicking your ass at Fifa.'

Stiles lumbered out of the McCall house as Scott laughed, picking a direction and heading that way, not really knowing at all where he was going. All he knew was that there was an uncomfortable coldness in his stomach at the moment, and it was so sporadic that he _knew_ he wouldn't have to walk for very long before the familiar warmth returned.

Stiles barely noticed the ache in his feet anymore. The _thump thump thump_ of his heartbeat urged him forward, stumbling along the side of the road, guided by nothing but his instincts and the growing heat flooding his body. He'd lost track of how long he had been walking, only aware that he'd left Scott's just after 2am and that by now he could already see the sky lightening ahead of him, heralding in the new day.

Stiles didn't know exactly where he was, except that his surroundings looked fairly familiar. He wasn't worried, though. Beacon Hills wasn't exactly the largest place around, and really, his whereabouts were the last thing on his mind. The longer he walked the calmer he felt, his heart slowing with every step he took. His nervous energy had gradually been replaced with a steady peace that assured Stiles beyond a shadow of a doubt that now was the time.

He had been picturing this moment his whole life, and now that it was here it felt almost unremarkable. He expected fireworks, to be running, or dying, or something incredible dramatic, but as he walked towards who-knows-where, Stiles could only describe the moment as serene.

He'd heard the stories – most were normal moments in life where two people meet, just happening to be soulmates. He'd heard stories of people meeting on buses, in a business meeting, the line at the shopping centre, on an overseas trip. Some stories were funny – soulmates meeting at the same restaurant, on separate dates. Some were heartbreaking – a paramedic turning up to an accident and meeting their soulmate who's on their deathbed. Some stories were comforting, when soulmates grew up together, never knowing the coldness of being separated. Sometimes people knew each other their whole lives, and only realised they were soulmates many, many years later, when one finally opened themself to love. Those were the stories that were somehow heartbreaking and comforting at the same time. For all the time lost, at least there was time to be gained.

Some, like Scott, said it felt like burning heat, others said it radiated all over their bodies. All said that afterwards they felt completely different in one-way or another, that their world had so radically changed they wouldn't be able to live it the same anymore.

Stiles looked up and realised he was making his way towards a lookout on the edge of the forest. To his left was the beginning of the dense woodlands, and up ahead the edge of a cliff overlooking the town.

Ahead of him the sun was beginning to rise, bringing light and life to the day ahead. He walked towards the lookout, admiring the innumerable shades of orange and yellow and blues and pinks that lit up the sky. The last few stars were beginning to disappear and Stiles took a deep breath of clean, fresh air.

Suddenly, he caught sight a figure walking towards him, illuminated in a halo of light from the rising sun. She was barefoot, clad in her pyjamas with only a light cardigan wrapped around her shoulders.

Stiles wanted to stop, but his feet propelled him forward until he was at arms-length from her.

'Lydia.'

'Oh,' she breathed out, a faint blush rising to her cheeks as she looked up at him. 'It's you. I thought it would be you.'

Stiles studied her face carefully to try and understand what she was feeling. She seemed to be doing the same to him. Finally she broke into a wide grin. Taking his hand, Lydia led them to the lookout and sat down on the edge, pulling Stiles down with her, without letting go of his hand.

He was speechless, but not bothered by it. There was no pressure to talk, so the two just sat and watched the sun rise over their home. There was no burning sensation, no radiating heat, but Stiles did feel different. He felt full and brimming with life and love, and could feel a pulsing warmth from his palm where Lydia grasped it in her own.

Stiles turned to look at her, studying her face, her hair, her body. She looked like he felt, overwhelmed but also intrinsically at peace and content. Unable to help himself, he pressed a gentle kiss to her head, burying his face in her hair for a moment while he tried to take it all in.

Lydia Martin. His _soulmate_.

Before he could ask the question burning on his lips he felt her shift to face him.

'I don't remember what I was dreaming about, but I woke up in the middle of the night feeling really peaceful. And then, it was like my feet needed to move, and I thought, _this is it_. I don't know what changed, but I felt _ready_ , and as soon as that happened I felt like my body was pulling me outside to you.'

'I was playing Fifa with Scott,' Stiles grinned. 'I left in the middle of our game.'

'Poor Scott,' Lydia rolled her eyes.

Stiles chuckled and pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arm securely around her and rubbing his hand up and down her arm to create some warmth.

'I'm sorry I made you wait,' Lydia apologised quietly. Stiles looked at her in confusion and then incredulity.

'Lydia, don't be sorry,' he chided.

'We could've had this for years,' she answered.

Stiles sighed and then smiled at her.

'You needed to be ready. I'm glad you are now.'

Lydia reached up and placed a soft kiss on Stiles' lips.

'Me too.'

The sun slowly made it's way higher and higher into the sky as Lydia and Stiles sat, talking and laughing and kissing. There were no fireworks, but it felt right, and good, and whole.

'Did you know it was me?' Lydia asked, peering into Stiles' eyes, eyes that featured in her dreams quite regularly, and would always from now on.

'No,' Stiles murmured, 'but I'd hoped.'

'Me too.'


End file.
